Friday 20 July 2012

Diary: Farsley Celtic 2 - 5 Leeds United


At the end of last season, my best friend and I made a promise that with this being the year we were going our separate ways to university, we would attend every Leeds United fixture we could together, particularly those away from home. And so, a day before we headed off to the South-West for games against Tavistock and Bodmin, we found ourselves on our way to local opponents Farsley Celtic.

For someone like me, Kez is the perfect best friend. Football mad and he owns his own car. I also own one but why would I want to drive when I can let him taxi me around? He also owes me dinner. In recent weeks I've paid for taxi fares, food and most recently, the ticket for the Farsley game and so its time he pays me back. Additionally, no trip out concerning the two of us is complete without a food-stop.

The phrase "couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery" applies regularly to the two of us and, never more so than today as after hastily scribbling down directions to the ground, we left the house...without the directions. Ten minutes and a quick de-tour home later, we set off for the second time...before realising we'd also forgotten the tickets. Third time lucky and we finally made it to Chiquito, a restaurant chosen for no other reason than I work there and therefore we received 33% discount off the food bill.

Farsley isn't far away, located in the middle of Leeds and Bradford. As I didn't know much about it before-hand I decided to research and found that after some careful studying, I didn't know any more about it than before. Not much goes on in Farsley. It has an ASDA nearby, a few bookies and a few schools. Typical shit Yorkshire town.

What Farsley does have though is a football team. Nicknamed The Villagers, they play at Throstle Nest and after squeezing into the car park we arrive. We're early and the 3,900 capacity stadium isn't yet half full with the majority of the sell-out crowd still on their way. A quick head-check of the warm up tells us that neither Luciano Becchio or Robert Snodgrass would feature but that trialists Martin Cranie and Andy Gray would. Both Ross McCormack and Aidy White, the latter who had just signed a new contract prior to the game, were also set to start, amidst continued speculation over their future at the club.

Typically, the first half was a stroll in the park. Despite his abysmal goal-scoring record and the fact that he's abysmal in general, Andy Gray stole the show with two goals, albeit one from a deflection. Robbie Rogers nodded in a third and at half-time Leeds were 3-0 up and coasting with Farsley offering less than their 25 or so home fans. A small section of the away fans were in full voice, clearly enjoying the fact that football had returned.

Half-time saw the first team switch with the "reserves and useless players XI"...namely a group of kids and Billy Paynter. Oh and Ramon Nunez. Easily forgotten. Farsley mounted a come back, scoring early on in the second half through what I believe was an own goal; my vantage point behind the opposite goal serving me no favours. Fan favourite Paynter then silenced his critics with a smartly taken header at the other end; this coming after missing two fine chances, one of which was well saved by the hard-working but sadly let-down Farsley goalkeeper. Two well taken goals later; one for either team finished the game off at 5-2, a decent run-out for both sides in what was a typical pre-season friendly. Fairly average.


There was absolutely nothing to write home about and nothing which will be frightening Stale Solbakken's Wolves side ahead of the first competitive game. But its early days. Jason Pearce looked as though he had the potential to right the continuing absence of a solid United centre half and Paul Green showed some nice touches on the ball. On the trialist front, Martin Cranie looked promising and despite his goals, Andy Gray continued to show that his best days are in the past...he's been doing that for fifteen years.

Our trip out ended with an extremely over-priced burger, consumed whilst waiting for the stationary traffic to clear out of the car-park. Finally we were on our way, enjoying the sounds of Westlife and Erasure as the Peugeot sped towards Liversedge.

We set off for Cornwall tomorrow. Tonight reminded me why I hate pre-season. It also reminded me why I love it. Its irrelevant if the opposition's number nine looks fatter and older than Trevor Sinclair.


 Football is back.




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